Page 50 of Her Only Hero

“Anyway, while presenting, Crawford spoke about a patient case of his office partner, who is of course, Stan Fulthorpe.”

“Ok?” I said, trying to follow this thread.

“You’re wondering where I’m going with this?”

I nodded.

“Gideon Crawford had mentioned that his partner, Dr. Stan Fulthorpe, wasn’t present at grand rounds because he had taken an unexpected trip. And Gideon also said, in jest, that maybe Stan had been the mysterious winner of the Mega Moola Lottery and was in the Galapagos Islands.”

“An unexpected trip?” I parroted.

“I don’t think a destination is significant at this point,” Aram said. “I’m mentioning this because I found it odd how youhad asked about an old classmate whom I haven’t thought of in years, and then I hear about him MIA the very next day. I assumed you would want to know.”

“I do. And thank you. I will let Patrick know; he may want to question you further. Is that okay?”

At the mention of Patrick’s name, Aram’s chin tilted downward.

“Yes, of course, June. I’ll do anything to help find the person who hurt the only woman I’ve loved.”

I froze.

He looked down and rubbed his forehead. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. But you know me. I always say what I feel. I hope I haven’t made things too awkward between us.”

“Aram—” I didn’t know what to say as his aqua eyes pulled me in.

The lab door opened, and Lara peeked out. “June, can I load the next run?”

“Ah, yes, I’ll be right there,” I said to Lara. I walked to the door and turned back to Aram. “Can we talk more later?”

“I’d like that,” he said.

I never thought I’d ever see him look at me in that desirous way again. For two agonizing years, I had longed for him to come back. But he didn’t. He had left me, and I had moved on. I walked through the lab with the most expressionless face I could muster up.

No, Aram, you’ve fooled me once, and never will again.

Chapter Twenty-Four

From beneath the glass fume hood door, I reached in and examined the piece of ceiling tile Patrick had submitted for evidence. The steady hum of the negative pressure exhaust deafened my ears to other sounds in the room. I scraped off the reddish-brown areas with a scalpel and immersed the bits into a tube of extraction fluid. It was odd to have had ceiling tile come into play in my life in two different ways. First in an investigation, and second, at my place in the basement.

“June!”

I jumped and swiveled on my stool to look behind me.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,” Vinny said and pushed up his glasses. “Your previous co-worker, Ursula, is starting today. After she puts on a lab coat, I thought she could shadow you for the day.”

“Oh, right,” I said, recalling last week’s announcement. My stomach twisted into a Palomar knot. I couldn’t lie. She’d burned me before, and now I was twice shy.

Ursula entered the lab and walked toward Vinny and me. She hadn’t changed. She still sported an edgy burgundy bob, winged black eyeliner, and wore a form-fitting lab coat.

“Hello, June,” she said in a smooth voice and spoke as if we were long-lost friends.

“Hi, Ursula. Welcome to forensics,” I said.

Vinny placed a stool beside me. “I’ll leave you two ladies to catch up. You’re in expert hands, Ursula.”

“I know I am, Vinny,” Ursula said smoothly. “I’m the one who trained June, once upon a time.”

I struggled not to grimace. I equated that training to boot camp. A long day stretched ahead. I took a deep breath and explained the extraction procedure. “As you can see, forensics differs completely from routine pathology.”

---